Shepherd Wizard Chapter 52

Translator: Pai_

In the past, Turan had watched the play Hero Keorn, where the war between the two great noble families was depicted as an honorable and fair battle.

Knights clashed with weapons, while nobles on the sidelines hurled fire and lightning to gain the upper hand.

However, real war was carried out in a far more insidious and treacherous manner.

First, the nobles of House Zahar would approach in concealnt, secretly tampering with the prepared food and water or ambushing and sniping those who left the main forces for reconnaissance and communication.

At night, they would openly unleash magic and flee repeatedly, ensuring that the enemy could barely get any sleep.

In contrast, the dayti belonged to House Arabion.

They advanced slowly but steadily, illuminating their surroundings and forcibly securing cooperation from the noble families that ruled the regions they passed through to replenish their supplies.

Naturally, those who refused were undoubtedly Zahar's spies, and they were burned to death with lightning.

Since it was impossible to wipe out all the noble families along Arabion's path in advance, Zahar changed their strategy while the enemy approached at a slow pace.

They dispatched small elite units of nobles and knights to launch direct invasions of Arabion's holand.

The main targets of these attacks were the small cities scattered across the Takein Plains.

The main estates, where the family heads might still be present, were too much of a burden to attack, whereas these smaller cities were left defenseless due to the conscription of nobles and knights.

The raiding parties slaughtered the few remaining nobles and knights and looted valuable treasures from the central estates. In the process, so set their sights on the won who had been raised to beco concubines of nobles.

Turan’s mother, Bije, was one such girl, abducted from the small city of Kil in the southern Takein Plains.

"Bizella?"

"Yes. If my mory serves right, that was definitely her na."

Turan repeated his mother’s real na for the first ti, lost in thought.

It certainly sounded much more aristocratic than Bije.

And also more feminine.

"I still rember her because that young lady was quite an unusual person."

"Unusual how?"

"Well, you see..."

While taking care of the captured won, Sarina categorized them into two groups.

The first were the submissive ones.

These won, having lost all hope of returning ho, did everything they could to charm a man and escape the fate of being treated like breeding livestock.

They flirted with the Zahar nobles and knights who had slaughtered their families, desperately seeking special treatnt.

The second group was the defiant ones.

They were consud with hatred, determined to kill the enemies who had murdered their families.

They refused to eat or attempted to disfigure their own faces to diminish their value.

Aside from a select few whose beauty was deed too precious, most of them were disposed of in various ways before long.

But Bizella was neither of the two.

She acted as if she were on a trip to a new place, wandering around all day and asking the servants endless questions.

Why do people here dress like this?

What is this dish called, and how is it made?

What is the na of the god worshipped here?

Once, another abducted girl scolded her, asking why she was acting so cheerful in such a miserable situation.

Her response was astonishing.

'Isn't it fascinating that people live so differently in a place we never knew about? At least it's better than being stuck at ho, putting on fake smiles!'

Naturally, for the girls who had been trained their entire lives to beco noble concubines, such words were nothing short of an insult.

As a result, Bizella beca an outcast even among them.

Thanks to this, Sarina, who served the captives, naturally grew close to her and heard many personal stories.

Bizella spoke of how she had always dread of becoming a traveling rchant since childhood but had been slapped by her father for even suggesting it.

She complained that the noble education she received at ho was so boring that she felt like she was dying.

"I'm sad that my family is gone, but they never cared about what I wanted anyway. Rather than being stuck in that suffocating mansion for the rest of my life, at least now I get to see a different world."

Hearing Sarina's explanation, Turan tried to imagine his mother, twenty years younger, probably around his own age now.

A bizarrely eccentric and optimistic young woman who, despite losing her entire family and being kidnapped, still claid that things weren’t so bad...

That image bore no resemblance to the cynical and utterly exhausted woman in his mories.

What had happened to change that peculiar girl so drastically?

"What about the man?"

What Turan was just as curious about as his mother was the identity of his father.

Since his mother was the daughter of an Arabion knight, his father was undoubtedly a noble or knight from House Zahar.

Judging by the circumstances, he was likely a noble.

To commoners, all wizards were high-ranking figures, but nobles wouldn’t have looked kindly on an ordinary knight taking a woman as his concubine and raising her.

Besides, while magic power wasn’t always inherited perfectly from one's parents, Turan's potential was far too high for him to have been born from a knight and a commoner.

"There was only one man who ca looking for that young lady. He was a young man, though, well, I don’t actually know his real age, but-"

"You an he looked young. What about his appearance or na? Was he a knight? A noble?"

"That, I can't quite rember. I was serving too many people back then… I’m sorry."

Turan clicked his tongue in disappointnt but soon accepted it.

It was only natural.

That forr innkeeper was an exception - normally, most people wouldn’t rember the face of soone they had seen only a few tis, in passing, twenty years ago.

"However, I do rember a few things the young lady said about the man she was eting. She ntioned that despite seeming stern, he was actually kind, that they had planned to travel together soday, and... she didn’t seem to dislike him."

In fact, Sarina added quietly, she had looked more like a girl in love.

Turan felt imnse relief at those words.

Although the circumstances of their first eting being a kidnapping was problematic from the start, but if there had been genuine love between them, then at least he could co to terms with it.

His mother had spoken well of his father before, but Turan had always suspected that it was just sothing she said for her son's sake.

Sarina continued sharing more about Bizella.

Like the ti she was locked in solitary confinent because she was running around the mansion to build stamina for traveling, which was mistaken as an escape attempt.

Or the ti she nearly set the garden on fire while trying to learn how to make a fire by rubbing sticks together.

Turan eagerly etched these amusing anecdotes into his mory, a smile tugging at his lips.

"The young lady beca pregnant about three or four months before she escaped. Even then, she used to say that when the three of them traveled together in the future, all this knowledge would co in handy. But then… she suddenly ran away."

One night, Sarina had stepped out of the mansion for a minor errand. On her way back, she ran into Bizella.

Startled, Sarina instinctively blocked her path. Bizella, looking equally surprised, pulled her horse to a stop, who knew where she had stolen it from, and pleaded with her.

Unlike her usual cheerful self, her face was utterly despondent.

"She begged to pretend I hadn’t seen her. So I asked her, didn’t you say the three of you would travel together soday? Why are you running away now?"

"And? What did she say?"

"She said… she had been too naive in how she saw the world. That there was no such thing as true freedom, and in the end, we were all nothing more than livestock raised by shepherds. And she couldn’t allow this child to be given the sa fate."

Those were the exact words his mother had spoken when Turan first awakened his magic.

In the end, Sarina had pretended not to see Bizella’s escape.

And that was how twenty years had passed.

Turan could now guess that his father must have helped his mother escape.

Otherwise, where would she have found a good horse capable of carrying her thousands of kiloters to safety? And how had she managed to evade Zahar's trackers?

"Well? Are you satisfied?"

Alos, who had been quietly listening from behind, asked in a subtle tone.

Turan hesitated for a mont before nodding.

He was convinced that no other noble house could provide a more detailed account than what he had just heard.

It was already a significant gain just to know for certain that there was no point in trying to find relatives on his mother's side.

He still didn’t know who his father was among Zahar’s nobles or knights, nor why he hadn’t been with his mother. But perhaps that was sothing he would learn later in the Enril Desert.

More than anything, he had indirectly experienced a version of his mother he had never known before.

That alone was enough to satisfy him.

"From this mont on, Kalamaf is yours. I trust you will govern it faithfully as per our agreent."

Alos grinned, revealing his white teeth, as he spoke in response to Turan’s answer.

*

With the higher-ups having finalized their discussions, Kalamaf City officially began preparations to transfer governance to House bern.

So officials from Vigen City arrived to take over various administrative duties and assess the city's condition. As they reviewed the docunts, they couldn't hide their astonishnt.

"My god, do these numbers even make sense…?"

"It's like a corpse coming back to life."

According to the population and financial records, Kalamaf had essentially been a dead city brought back to life.

And it was all thanks to a single individual.

The one responsible for this miracle, Turan, was making his final preparations to leave.

"Off on another journey. Sounds fun, doesn’t it, Bije?"

[Where to?]

"Southwest, to a place called the Sky Library. Co to think of it, you wouldn’t be able to see the old librarian, would you? Since I’m sneaking in this ti, it’ll be tricky for you to co along."

This ti, he planned to simply use Concealnt, sneak in, take care of his business, and leave.

On his first visit, he had gone through official channels just in case there were any hidden detection asures capable of seeing through Zahar’s Concealnt. But now he knew there weren’t any.

Given Turan's current magic power, it was unlikely, but it would be annoying if the head of that place tried to insisted again about marrying his daughter.

"Now that I think about it, I really have been here a long ti."

Since his journey began, the longest he had ever stayed in one place was a month at House Berg. But in Kalamaf, he had ended up staying for nearly two to three months, his longest stay in any city.

After one final check of his room in the city hall residence, Turan stepped out the door.

Daruk, who had now stepped down from his position as mayor, bowed his head to him.

"You have arrived, Great Turan."

Now that he had officially relinquished his role as the city’s protector, Turan’s new title among the people was Great Turan.

The man who had saved Kalamaf from ruin, the one who had accomplished what no other noble would dare attempt.

"You must be disappointed that you can't continue as mayor."

"It was an ill-fitting role for from the start. Besides, I'm far too old now."

It was true. Daruk was already sixty-six years old, well past the age of retirent for soone who wasn’t a wizard.

"First, please accept this."

"What is it?"

Daruk opened a chest beside Turan’s room, revealing a vast amount of gold and silver coins.

Where had this impoverished city acquired such wealth?

"The citizens gathered it. The money from selling the furs you brought in and the surplus stone, we are rely returning what rightfully belongs to you."

"Use it for the city."

"If left here, it will simply beco the property of House bern rather than the citizens. Please, do not refuse."

Turan looked at Daruk and realized, just like last ti, that he wouldn’t back down.

The gold coins probably amounted to about eight hundred, and the silver coins around two thousand.

It was an absurdly large sum to carry in a backpack, but he had the Large-Capacity Pouch isa had given him.

After confirming that Turan had taken the money, Daruk smiled.

"May I escort you to the gates one last ti?"

"By all ans."

As Turan followed behind him, he sensed the presence outside through his Sacred Relic.

Beyond the city hall, in the plaza, stood thousands of people lined up...

At tis like this, having a keen perception was more of a curse than a blessing.

This kind of thing would have been far more surprising and enjoyable if he had walked into it unprepared.

["Waaaaaaah----!"]

As expected, the mont he stepped outside, he was greeted by an overwhelming crowd, what seed to be every single citizen of Kalamaf.

Most of them were the elderly and children, the survivors of the old Kalamaf that had once been reduced to ruins.

They were waving makeshift flags made with sticks and cloth, which had crude drawings of a golden eagle and a man like a coat of arms.

There were also embarrassing phrases like 'Long Live Great Turan' and 'Our Savior'.

"This is... a bit much."

"Please, don’t say that. Today, everyone has gathered to honor their great benefactor."

Turan swept his gaze over the faces staring at him.

Infinite gratitude, sadness about his departure, worship and praise...

Those reactions, sotis positive and sotis negative, were things he had seen over the past few months, but now that he thought he wouldn't see them anymore, they suddenly felt regrettable.

Did I... actually like being praised like this?'

Feeling embarrassed at discovering this childish side of himself, Turan increased his walking speed.

As he passed through the tightly packed crowd and neared the city gates, sothing caught his eye.

A group of citizens, who had been waiting for him, swiftly pulled away a white cloth, unveiling a statue about three ters tall.

A young man with a Golden Eagle perched at his side.

A carving of Turan himself.

"...When did you make this?"

"It was made in a rush, so it’s a little rough. But we plan to create a better one later. There’s one at each of the four city gates."

Daruk answered with a cheeky smile.

If he had ever walked through the gates on foot, he might have noticed. But since he always traveled on Bije, he had been oblivious.

Then again, even if he had seen sothing under construction, he would have assud it was just another building, not a statue of himself.

"Wouldn’t House bern disapprove?"

"We got their permission in advance. They even welcod the idea, saying that as long as the statue remains, it’ll serve as proof of how the city changed hands."

"...You all are still struggling to survive, though."

"Sotis, there are things more important than re survival. For the citizens of this city, honoring their savior is one of them."

["That’s right!"]

Several people in the crowd echoed Daruk’s words with a cheer.

Feeling increasingly embarrassed, Turan muttered a few protests before falling silent and walking past the statue, stepping beyond the city gates.

In the distance, the familiar rocky mountains of the Gray Zone stretched across the horizon.

He turned back one last ti, thinking to deliver a grand farewell speech, but standing in front of that massive statue, he found himself at a loss for words.

"So... uh, I actually thought of a lot of impressive things to say, but I can’t seem to rember any of them now."

"What need is there for words? Your actions have already spoken far greater than any speech ever could."

Since when had this old man beco so eloquent?

Turan opened his mouth as if to reply but then simply gave up. Instead, he instructed Bije to take off into the sky.

As the familiar sensation of weightlessness set in and the ground quickly receded below him, he glanced back one last ti.

Among the crowd, he saw several citizens finally unable to hold back their tears.

And with that, the Savior of Kalamaf left the city behind.